When My Fur Itches
by Sweets Omega
Summary: In this story, I tell what it means when my fur itches.


When my fur itches, it means something's likely to happen to me. And no, I never got that warning when I was a pup, for some reason. The last time I had that feeling was back in Jasper (as an adult) before the Western and Eastern Packs united.

It was a morning in the late winter, and I was out and around, like I usually was, when I suddenly got this itching feeling all over my body. I sat and started scratching frantically, wanting nothing more than for this horrid feeling to stop.

Then, a few seconds later, I heard a commotion in some bushes about 100 yards ahead of me, and there was Bob, one of our Betas. Bob was a large wolf with jet black fur and amber eyes. He'd tackled a Human who was in the park doing some illegal hunting. I had been in the hunter's sights . . . that's why I'd gotten the feeling I did. Bob got the hunter's rifle away and tossed it, and it ended up going off a nearby cliff. My itching stopped as soon as Bob disarmed the hunter. He let the hunter go, but not before mauling him pretty well. Nothing life-threatening, just enough to make sure the guy didn't come back. Word must have gotten out, because we didn't have any more trouble with Humans coming into our territory to hunt us after that.

"Oh, my! Bob, you saved my life!" I ran to him and hugged him and nuzzled his face, my tail wagging like crazy. "Thank you! Thank you _so_ much!"

He was embarrassed at first, but then he relaxed and hugged me back. "You're welcome, Sweets."

After we let each other go, he was embarrassed again, looking down at his forepaws as he shifted back and forth on them, glancing up at me from the tops of his eyes. "I . . . uhhh. . . kinda followed you. Ummm . . . Even if we can't be mates . . . Well . . . You're very beautiful."

I stood back, narrowed my eyes, brought my ears up, tilted my head to the side and frowned at him. "You mean . . . You've been stalking me?"

He continued shifting back and forth on his forepaws. "Well . . . uhhh . . . I-I guess . . . you could say that . . . I just like watching you as you go about your daily business. I mean . . . On my own time, of course. And . . . uhhh . . . if I see you start to do anything . . . you know . . . private . . . I turn away . . ."

I felt my look soften a bit. "It's okay, Bob. I think I understand. It _does_ get pretty lonely, not having a mate . . . And if it wasn't for you following me today, I wouldn't be here right now. So I forgive you, even if I'm still a bit creeped out about you following me around."

He nodded and smiled a bit sadly. "Thanks, Sweets. I'm sorry if I've upset you at all. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you in any way. And I promise you I won't follow you anymore."

I thought for a moment, then laid my ears back and smiled at Bob. "No you won't, Bob. You wanna know why?"

He looked puzzled, then he started to look concerned, bringing his head down sadly. "Ohhhh . . . You're not gonna tell Winston I've been following you, are you? I don't think he'd be very pleased with me . . ."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, Bob. I'm not gonna tell Winston. You saved my life. Getting you into trouble wouldn't be a very good reward for that, now would it?"

He shook his head silently.

"What I have in mind is for you to walk with me when you have time off. You don't have to hide anymore, Bob. As long as you don't mind being seen walking with an Omega, anyway . . ."

He looked at me in amazement, his mouth hanging open, and his amber eyes wide. "Y-y-you mean . . .?"

I nodded, still smiling. "Exactly what I said, Bob."

A smile spread across his muzzle as he accepted what I'd just told him. "Sh-sh-sure, Sweets! I'd be _honored_ to walk with you! I don't care if you're an Omega. You've got more charm and spirit than any other wolf I know."

"Well, then," I said, "It's settled." I tossed my head toward the trail. "I've got my rounds to make, so let's get going, eh?" I trotted off, and Bob hurried to catch up and trot along beside me, wearing an ear-to-ear grin.

Poor Bob was killed on a hunt a few weeks after that. A caribou caught him just wrong with its antlers as he was helping bring it down. This all was before the packs united, and the ban on the ranks intermarrying was lifted, or Bob and I might have become mates before he was killed. I guess that was a blessing in disguise, as the Humans say, or I might have been a young widow like Mom. And it not being breeding season, I wouldn't even have had a pup to show for it. *sigh*

Ah, well... I know everything happens for a reason.


End file.
